


Kuebiko

by Erandir



Series: Eldarion Surana [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Depression, Emotional Support Mabari, Gen, Post-Dragon Age: Origins Quest - Broken Circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erandir/pseuds/Erandir
Summary: Kuebiko: “n. A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence”Sitting amidst the tatters of a broken Circle, Eldarion Surana struggles to come to terms with what's become of his home.





	Kuebiko

The acrid smell of blood and that unique musk of death stuck in his nose. The air was thick with it even here in the tower’s entry. He itched for a bath, for a change of clothes, to scrub his skin raw and perhaps his memory along with it.

He could not reconcile the horror he had just lived with the Circle of his past, and this new one threatened to supercede that in his memory. Even if they managed to clean the tower - remove the corpses and scrub the bloodstains from the floor and walls - this place would never be the same again. Too many had died. Too many had seen or committed atrocities. Too many children would grow up with scars too similar to his own.

The dog pressed his heavy head against Eldarion’s side, a low whine echoing from his throat as he attempted to nuzzle his way into the tight folds of Eldarion’s body, curled in on itself in fatigue and grief and guilt. He uncurled only enough to let the beast’s head into his lap. A wet nose sniffed at his face, another soft whine. “I’m alright, Huan.”

The dog did not relent. He nosed and licked at Eldarion’s face and whined until his master uncurled himself entirely.

Eldarion’s spine twinged in protest. How long had he been sitting here? Long enough that even the dog was worried. Maybe rightly so. “Good boy,” he praised, and scratched Huan behind his ears.

“That’s one smart dog,” Alistair sad. He came to sit beside Eldarion, stripped out of his heavy armor already. A dark purple bruise was starting to bloom across his jaw.

Eldarion’s eyes were drawn to that bruise. “Let me heal that.”

“Oh, yes please,” Alistair sighed. “If you aren’t too tired. It hurts when I talk.”

Eldarion very nearly quirked a smile at that, but couldn’t quite manage the effort. He was exhausted down to his core. But despite that he raised a hand to the bruise on Alistair’s cheek. It felt good to do something good, however small, after a day filled with so much evil.

The bruise did not disappear entirely, but it faded to yellow around the edges. When Eldarion finished, Alistair moved his jaw about to test it, then smiled. “Much better,” he said, relieved. “How are you doing?”

Such a deceptively simple question. How was Eldarion feeling? “Tired,” he answered. A gross understatement, but it was all he could put into words. At least words that Alistair might understand. How could he explain to someone with few qualms about violence the soul-deep ache that had taken root in his heart?

How many times now had Eldarion been passed over by death while it claimed people so much more worthy of living? Too many. And he had failed every time to save the people who put their trust in him. Even now the bruise marring Alistair’s face was just another reminder of a life put on the line to protect him.

Huan whined again and pressed his wet nose against Eldarion’s face. Eldarion had neither the heart nor desire to push him away.

“You should try to get some rest,” Alistair said.

Eldarion only nodded weakly and let his forehead rest against the dog’s. He could try, but he doubted sleep would come to him that night. He could not trust himself in a place so volatile still. The veil was thin and his control fraying in his exhaustion. The templars were on edge, watching the remaining mages try to pick up the tatters of their lives with a wary apprehension. Each remained a suspect, a potential lurking threat. Eldarion would not risk giving them further reason for fear if he could help it. 

He had all but begged to come back to the Circle. But this was not the home Eldarion remembered; the haven and sanctuary he'd cherished for so many years. Now he could not be away from it soon enough.


End file.
